


Pumpkins & Pretenses

by wolfofwinterfell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Pumpkin carving, pumpkin guts aren’t the only guts Severus is touching, you can thank my friend for that last one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfofwinterfell/pseuds/wolfofwinterfell
Summary: In a world pre-Draco and pre-teaching at Hogwarts, Narcissa and Severus spend Halloween together. Lucius is out, Severus is home.
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/Severus Snape
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Pumpkins & Pretenses

There were many benefits to Lucius being gone on business, Narcissa had decided. Chief among them was that she didn’t have to wonder who was coming in with him when she heard the door unlatch each evening or hope he was in a good mood. Severus was consistent in his quietness and consideration for his hosts; he was always alone, always careful to not come barging in or to make a mess all over the floor. 

She wished she could say the same of her husband. 

“Is that you, Severus?” She was  _ reasonably  _ sure it was, but there was a chance Lucius had come home early. “I’m in the dining room, if you’d like to join me.”

A couple moments later he appeared in the doorway, looking tired but reasonably content. Lucius’s time away was good for him as well. 

“Happy Halloween.” 

“Happy Halloween to you as well.” He leaned against the doorframe. 

“No costume? Pity.” She winked at him. “I thought the bookshop would have a field day with that.” 

“Right, well, costumes optional.” He eyed her, sticking his hands in his pockets. She wasn’t wearing one either, he wanted to note, but instead turned his attention to the table. Sat before her were a pair of large, orange pumpkins and several knives of varying sizes. “What exactly is it that you’re doing with those?”

“Care to join me and properly find out?” 

He moved into the dining room and took the seat across from her, curious as she began to move one of the pumpkins around. She seemed to be observing it from every angle possible. “You look as though you’re debating how best to kill it.”

“You’ve really never done this before, have you?” 

“No.” At that, the witch smirked, and Severus looked back to the pumpkins. “My parents didn’t want to deal with the mess.”

“I trust you know the basics of removing the top, scooping the rest out?” As she spoke, Narcissa stabbed one of the larger knives from the table into the top of the pumpkin, a few inches from the stem, and kept moving it until she could pull the top off. 

“I dare say I’ve done worse.” He watched as her mouth twitched and took the knife from her, following suit. “I didn’t realize this was something the Malfoys did.” 

“Hardly.” Narcissa laughed. “We went on holiday in America once when I was a child and I liked it. I used to carve them in the kitchen with the house elves. It’s been years since I’ve done one. And with Lucius gone...I figured why not?”

She reached into her pumpkin, making a slight face at the coldness immediately surrounding her hand, and glanced sidelong at him just in time to catch him rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. She swallowed thickly as his eyes flicked to her face.

“Why not indeed,” he murmured. 

A twist of Severus’s arm accentuated the tendons in his wrist and Narcissa took in a shaky breath. Her cheeks flushed and she tried to ignore the warmth she felt pooling elsewhere by focusing on the pumpkin. The slimy feeling of it’s innards had been one of her favorite things as a child; with age she’d come to enjoy it less, but doing this by magic took away part of the fun. 

“Do you know how this practice began?” She’d waited to ask until she was done scooping. 

“In Ireland, wasn’t it?” Severus had finished gutting his pumpkin as well and was looking at her again, waiting for her to choose her next knife. 

“It was.” She smiled at him as she chose one and set about her carving. “The story goes that there was a man nicknamed Stingy Jack. He invited the devil to have a drink with him one night and, true to his name, was not inclined to pay for his drink. He convinced the devil to turn himself into a coin that Jack could use to pay for their drinks, and they’d carry on.”

“Rather a clever plan.” Severus glanced up for a moment from his own carving. “To start, anyway.” 

“Aren’t they all?” She met his eyes, felt her heartbeat quicken. 

“Jack decided to keep the money instead of pay with it and he slipped it into his pocket next to a silver cross. The devil couldn’t turn back. Eventually, he and Jack made a bargain: Jack would free the devil so long as he would be left alone for a year, and if Jack died, the devil would not claim his soul. The next year came round and Jack tricked the devil again - this time into climbing into a tree to pick fruit. While the devil was picking the fruit, Jack carved a cross into the trunk, trapping him there until the devil agreed to leave Jack alone for ten years.

Jack died soon after. Legend goes that God would not allow such an unsavoury figure into heaven and the devil, though upset at having been tricked, stuck to his word and did not claim Jack’s soul, so he was not allowed into hell either. Instead, the devil sent Jack off into the dark night with burning coal to light his way. Jack put the coal into a carved out lantern and has been roaming the Earth ever since, desperate for a place to rest.” 

“That makes two of us.” His words were barely audible. 

They fell into a companionable silence as they worked, the only sound that of their knives as they carved. A quarter of an hour passed before either of them spoke again. 

“I think I’ve finished.” Severus set his knife down. 

“I’ve a bit more to do on mine.” She eyed the design, trying to decide on what part to work on next. “If you want, the seeds are good to eat; you can roast them.” 

“Point taken.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile as he eyed a bowl at the end of the table. He grabbed it and settled back in his chair. 

She watched his fingers as he sorted through the remnants from the pumpkins they'd carved, looking for seeds, and was almost ashamed of herself as she wondered how it'd feel for those fingers to explore her.  _ Almost. _

He was patient and methodical, separating the guts and slime. Thorough. So very much unlike Lucius, who wanted everything quickly or not at all.

Her carving was mostly forgotten, as was the knife in her hand. She made a sound of surprise as she nicked her finger and dropped it. Severus was on his feet in an instant, his quick strides carrying him around the table in what seemed like no time at all. 

“I’m fine,” she murmured. “No real damage.”

He ignored her, casting a quick scourgify to clean his own hands, and took hold of hers gently. When he was satisfied that she was right, he let go of her hand and she tried to hide the disappointment in her face. 

“I was finished anyway. You might as well see it now.” She turned toward her pumpkin again. 

“A horse, is it?” Severus stepped in closer. 

“A kelpie, actually.” His hand brushed her hip as he shifted, setting her afire, and she reflexively stepped backward -directly into him. Her face blazed; she could feel all of him and she wanted  _ more _ . 

“Ah, I see.” He pressed forward, testing her, and felt the shiver that ran down her spine at his breath on her neck. “An interesting choice.”

“The day’s all about pretending, isn’t it? For the muggles, at least.” She stared at the pumpkin, working up her nerve. “I wanted to pretend, for just one night...for myself...that I could be one.” 

“Why would you need to pretend?” 

“They’re said to be beautiful enough to lure men to their death if they’re appearing in human form.” Her voice was just a whisper, cracking even in its quietness. “He won’t even look at me unless he has to.”

“You are more than beautiful enough.” There was the ghost of a kiss against her shoulder. “You know he cannot help it any more than you can.” 

“Knowing that doesn’t  _ help me _ , Severus! Not when he’s free to seek out alternatives and I’m left alone.”

“You’re not alone.” This time, a kiss to the underside of her jaw. 

“Are you…” He spun her around to face him and the look in his eyes made her feel bold. She reached up for one of the buttons on his vest and ran her finger over it. “Are you sure?” 

“If I’m to die this way, I go willingly.”

He kissed her before she could speak again and it was like none she’d shared with Lucius, soft and hot and breathy at once, not trying to win a battle but instead two halves seeking the opportunity to be one. There were unspoken words there, a desire for closeness. A need. A single breath shared, passionate. 

* * *

They were in her room, clothes gone, kissing each other hungrily. He brought his hand up and cupped the swell of her breast, thumb roaming. She groaned against his mouth as she arched her back, trying not to squirm. Reaching between them while their kiss deepened, she felt his hips twitch. 

“Careful,” he breathed against her. 

“Careful yourself.” She pushed his shoulder lightly and was surprised when he fell back without complaint, let her slip over him. His hands settled around her waist, her anchor if she needed one, and she let her fingers explore him in the dark. 

One hand went to the base of his skull, her fingers running through his hair. The other, after a few minutes of wandering, grabbed one of his hands and guided it from her waist to the space between them. She moaned softly as he took over, digging her nails into his chest lightly. 

The pleasure was an unfamiliar ache, one that started off pleasant but built continuously, a fire that needed stoked. Her body was consumed by it, the unaccustomed enjoyment, and she tried to raise herself again in protest as Severus brought his hands back to her hips and held her still. 

“What’s wrong?” She stared at a small part of the duvet where it peeked out between his neck and shoulder. “Did I do something?” 

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” He reached up to brush her cheek with his thumb, gently directed her face back to look at him. This almost shy, unconfident version of Narcissa was new to him, raw, and he was glad she trusted him enough to let him see it. “I was just going to suggest we, ah, switch.”

“Oh.” She flushed. She’d thought he wouldn’t notice her getting tired, thought maybe she could ride out the protesting from her muscles. 

His weight over her was comforting once they’d resituated, a strange reminder that this was real, and his lips were everywhere as he moved - her mouth, the underside of her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. He was gentle but as the ache began to build again, she wanted more, pressed her nails against his back. He moaned against her shoulder and complied, words unnecessary, kisses becoming more like soft bites. 

And though neither wanted it to end, it was inevitable. Narcissa felt herself go first, grasping at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto while she soared. Moments later he was saying her name in her ear, burying his face against her neck. 

When they felt they could move again, he rolled onto his side beside her, tucked her against him. She closed her eyes in contentment as he stroked her back lazily. 

This was a night of pretenses for the muggles, pretending to be somebody else. She’d wanted to pretend too, and yet she felt as though this was the first time in a very long time that she had been honest. 

“We forgot to put candles in the pumpkins.” He sounded amused. 

“That was your fault.” 

He snorted, tracing some sort of design on her lower back. She thought it might have been a horse. 

“We could go put them out now, if you wanted.” She began to draw designs of her own on his chest. 

“I’ve been caught by a kelpie; they’re rather unwilling to let their prey go.” 

“Too right.” She propped herself up on her elbow and leaned over him to kiss him again. “Happy Halloween, Severus.” 


End file.
